Unfamiliar Walls
by Opal Roseblossom
Summary: In an attempt to hide Opal ventures a little too deep, only to find that her own mind is much harder to control than anything she has ever encountered.


_"What do you know; the crazy girly Captain was right." The __LEPretrieval__ officer looked like he still couldn't believe his eyes as he handcuffed the young __human__ who stood before them. _

_"Opal __Koboi__ came back for more. Who would've __thunk__" The other one, a moronic looking gnome, didn't seem convinced in the least that the girl-child who batted her eyes so innocently could've killed anyone, but orders were orders and she needed to be taken in to custody._

_"Hey, Lump," the first officer said, "do you think that Holly Short did go insane and shoot the commander?"_

_"I wouldn't put it past her," Lump said, "you know females, they're emotional and unsteady."_

_Opal grinned as they shoved her in the cruiser. She may not have succeeded, but it seemed that Holly's career was ruined for sure._

_"Well, she quit the force all on her own, good riddance. Maybe they'll learn that women just can't handle the job like us men."_

_Opal squeaked in indignation. Guilt flooded her body, but she dismissed it quickly. A couple of females would lose their jobs tonight, but it was not nearly as important as her impending trip to Howler's Peak. _

_But Holly's face remained in her mind. How she hated the elf, Holly could rot for all she cared.__ Opal had to escape. She hated to use the same trick twice, but it was necessary._

_Oh, how she hated Holly._

Opal runs through the halls, sweat trickling down her face and into her eyes. She looks around desperately. How did she get here? How could she get back?

The walls, a posh white, glare down at her, looking unfamiliar and angry. She had created this, it was hers, but she knew it not.

Her breath came in desperate gasps. She had bee trying to hide, as she had done many times before, inside this comfortable little house. But this time she hid too deep, tapped into rooms she couldn't remember, didn't understand, and there was no way out.

She curses this house, the doors, the furniture, the floor. Their décor is gaudy and overly expensive, their paths confusing and misleading. Opal hates them, hates every centimeter.

As if arguing on its own behalf the hallway lurches forward, throwing Opal to her knees. It shudders threateningly, as if the entire floor wishes to drop beneath her.

What had she been thinking? Any creation of hers could not be less than perfect. She is brilliant and beautiful, nothing stands in her way.

The house disagrees again, and shakes violently to prove it. Opal is thrown against the walls, and the drywall cracks under her insignificant weight.

She picks herself up angrily and pushes into the nearest room, a small study. The ground trembles under her feet and she must cling to the weak walls for support.

A book shelf rocks, daring her to come any closer as it prepares to fall. Several texts fly at Opal. She glances fleetingly at the titles; _Survival Tips_ and _Basic Physics _nearly knock her unconscious. She cries out in fear.

The room begins to move again, yet Opal's thoughts remain blank. She tries to walk forward, but the bookcase keeps its promise and tumbles towards her. She runs for the door, but it is falling too fast.

* * *

_"A toy!"__ Opal gurgled happily. The palm pilot she picked up is a sleek grey and smaller than her tiny hand, the latest._

_She turned it on and the light that appears illuminated the room i__n a heavenly glow. In a second the screen is filled with complex figures. It asked for a password._

_Opal furrowed her brow in concentration and began to punch in numbers. Her grubby fingers could barely press the keys, and there was much frustrated backspacing, yet she continued without a sound._

_An indignant squeak was heard from the kitchen and a balding man bounded out as if the house was on fire. He grabbed the child. _

_"That is not a __toy,__ it is neither for women nor children. You'll break it, give it here."_

_"_Access Granted." _The __machine beeped__ its approval._

_"How…" he whispered in wonder, "Go, up to your room, bad girl."_

_"But Dada…" Little Opal cannot understand his anger. _

_"NOW!"__ His face was red with… was it anger, or possibly humiliation? "You will never touch another piece of technology again, do you hear me? A girl like you can't understand."_

_"A girl like me?"__ Opal understood now, and she understood more than her father intended. __"A __**girl**__ like me."__ She walked upstairs without another sound._

* * *

All Opal can see is darkness. No, that's not right, it isn't dark, the room is completely black. She can see, but there does not appear to be any light.

Opal sits up and searches for a door. The room is small, about one cubic meter, so it does not take long to determine that there is no way out.

She begins to panic, she never liked small places, she had spent her entire life avoiding being trapped.

Opal checks again, her breathing speeds up. There is no door and no window. Opal pushes against the wall as if she expects it to simply fall down, but it does not budge. She pushes the roof, the floor, the walls; she shoves with her hands and feet, kicks and punches, desperately trying to get out.

She screams. The room absorbs it, and she screams louder, banging her tiny fists against the sides until they are bruised and bloody, but no one answers. There is no one that can hear her here.

She screams until she has no voice left, then screams some more. All that she emits is a hoarse croak. Finally she sinks to the ground, defeated. The energy drains from her body.

It is then that Opal regains some of her intelligence. She scolds herself, because body does not matter here.

Then she arranges herself into a cross legged position and places her hands on her knees. _Think door._

She imagines it, white and shining, a way out of this place. Opal pictures a beautiful brass knob; a simple turn will free her. The cold surface presses against her hand and she pushes against the door.

It doesn't open. Opal pushes harder. It still won't budge.

Her scream is non-existent, her throat is much too dry to emit a sounds. She kicks the door, and her toe throbs from the impact.

She inspects the door, why won't it open? D'arvit, why won't it open? A key, she needs a key!

Opal's mind seizes up, and the door begins to fade. She reaches for it, as if to hold it here with her fingers, but it dissolves into nothing.

_Think key. _Her thoughts fight for escape, but she reels them in. This time her door is gold with a bright brass knob. Opal pushes the key into the slot and turns it, the door opens.

Opal nearly collapses with relief. She walks out the door.

* * *

_The press crowded around Opal, their cameras flashed and their microphones pushed forward insistently. They pestered her with questions and she answered them graceful__ly, she stood in front of them as their queen._

_One reporter, a young intern by the looks of it, scuttled forward nervously. She fumbled with her notepad, then cautiously raised the microphone and moved it towards Opal. After much throat clearing she asked, "Do you feel guilty, Miss __Koboi__? You ruined your own father, destroyed him, does that bother you at all?" Despite her bold words the reporter shook, rattling the microphone. The others drew __back,__ it was the question that they had been afraid to ask._

_But it was not a question that Opal was afraid to answer. "No," she said, "I do not feel guilty in the least." And it was true. "In fact, I feel free."_

_The press did not know what to make of such a startling answer. They puzzled over it for a second or two. It was silent, but only for a moment, they moved on to ask her other, trivial questions._

_But Opal didn't move on. She watched a hologram in a shop across the road; it displayed her father, old and frail, on his knees with tears in his eyes. Opal felt a warm feeling of satisfaction spread throughout her veins._

_She was free._

Now Opal is in a meadow that seems to spread endlessly across the sky. The plains stretch farther than her eye can see, uniformly covered with a long, green weed. The sky is sunny, but clouds can be seen just beyond the horizon.

She looks around nervously, it is too open and there is not a building in sight. Well, if she can't find one then she'll just have to build one.

The landscape seems flat and endless, and as unfamiliar as anything else she had experienced that day. She walks forward, thinking that logically this has to end some time.

After several hours she realizes that there is nothing, every piece of grass looks the same; the only thing that has changed is the clouds. They come closer, blocking out the sun. Fine, Opal would welcome the change.

"I need help!" Opal whispers. She doesn't have the voice to yell it, and though she knows that no one will hear it still humiliates her to admit this.

And it angers her too. She shivers, a few raindrops platter against her skin, did this dreadful place have no end?

What is that in the distance? It is too dark to see, but Opal makes out a silhouette against the sky. The person is far away, and Opal begins to run angrily. Can nothing be easy here?

It rains harder, the drops taking on an ice-like quality. They are sharp and open little cuts in Opal's flesh. Lightning strikes overhead and thunder quickly follows, startling Opal into running faster. The figure draws closer, and Opal feels a jolt of excitement, she hasn't spoken to anyone in what feels like years.

Another bolt of lightening illuminates the elf directly in front of her. The auburn hair and pointed ears stop Opal in her tracks. Holly's smile is kind and she offers an outstretched hand.

Opal has no voice left, but the meadow speaks for her. Lightening strikes half a meter away, but Holly doesn't flinch. The rain soaks through her jumpsuit and presses her hair against her forehead, but she simply stands there.

The grass catches on fire and spreads quickly, circling around them both. Holly remains unaffected, Holly always remains unaffected and it angers Opal even more.

The lightening strikes the palm of Holly's hand, but doesn't leave a mark. She withdraws it and begins to fade, never once losing the expression of kind acceptance from her face. The heat around Opal intensifies, and she sees no way out.

She's trapped again.

* * *

No, _Opal's mind protested, _not her, take him. _Holly and Root stood over General __Scalene's__ body, puzzled as the screen appeared and her face gave way to dawning comprehension._

_Opal quickly replaced her look of worry with one of triumph. __They made small talk, she told them snippets of her plan and they replied with vows to beat her. They tried to asses the situation, but they couldn't, they could only panic._

_Meanwhile Opal's mind was also reeling. _Take him, not her, please take him, and spare her. _She tried to hide her nervousness, but they were too preoccupied to notice her discomfort. _It really shouldn't matter, they'll both be dead soon enough, why do I care if one goes first. _But despite that she hoped._

_The screen attached __itself to Root with a sickening crunch. Opal sighed in relief__, now she could enjoy this a little bit more. _

* * *

Opal's breathe echoes against the wall. She opens her eyes and is blinded by whiteness. The walls are solid cement, colourless and bright. It is a hallway, long and blank. It is nothing.

Opal knows instantly that there is no end, she watches it go on forever, but it is a different kind of forever than the meadow. It is more hopeless, emptier.

A dry sob is emitted from her throat and her thoughts drain from her brain, she can't think or feel.

The nothing sounds of her silent crying are deafening here. Opal slumps against the wall, defeated.

* * *

_"I don't think it's a trick this time," Dr. Argon said, "__there's__ been no brain activity for a week or so."_

_"We can't risk it, the Council has decided__ if there truly is no brain activity then it is the best solution anyway." __Sool__ eyed the girl's lifeless body with contempt._

_Argon sighed, Opal would not be allowed the same luxurious treatments as she did previously, but he would still receive a decent profit if he cared for her. "I guess we'll unplug her."_

_Ark __Sool__ shrugged, "Yes, just do it." He turned and walked out the door, he was late for lunch._

_Argon reluctantly prepared her. "Good-bye Opal."_

A/N: This was interesting to write. It was my pre-exam present to myself because it was so fun.

Constructive crit please! Anything is appreciated, especially harsh criticism.


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